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CHAPTER1
SKYE
Fear makes my legs wobbly as I stumble back from Rage and this man who wants to keep me here. He doesn’t look old, maybe in his late thirties, but he has a ‘President’ patch on the front of his leather vest, though from the way he’s commanding things, I would have guessed he’s in charge without it. I’ve been around power, and I know how it looks. Even Rage defers to him.
But I don’t care who he is. He’s not my president, and there is no way in hell I’m letting myself become a captive again.
“Stay back!” I sound hysterical. I feel it.
What are they going to do to me?
This was always a risk when I came here, but I didn’t expect to be discovered so quickly. Now that they know who my father is, my throat squeezes shut, choking me. I keep my hands locked over my baby, determined to get us out of this mess I’ve caused.
All my bad decisions have brought us to this place. I slide my gaze towards Rage, hoping he will protect me. He has a stake in me staying alive, though it would probably solve all his problems if I’m dead. Then there’s no baby and no worries for him.
My nerves are on fire despite how spent I am. I don’t know how my body is still moving. I want to lie down and sleep for a week, but adrenaline pulses through my veins, and I suspect it’s the only reason I’m still on my feet.
“Skye…”
Rage steps forwards, his hands raised as if he means me no harm. I don’t believe him. A moment ago, he was spitting venom at me, calling me a bitch and accusing me of faking my pregnancy to spy.
“You come any closer and I swear I will make you eat your balls.”
The frown doesn’t surprise me, but he stops, glancing at his president for instruction. I scan the room, looking for the lady who had taken care of me, but she’s standing with the other women, her eyes blank.
There are varying levels of animosity coming from all the women. They think I’m a spy. A cold tingle of dread spreads through my body, attacking every synapse it passes through. It’s accompanied by a wave of light-headedness that has me swaying on my feet. I need to sit and eat. I’m so tired of fighting. Maybe dying would be better. At least then I would be with my baby, and I wouldn’t have to worry about anything.
Even as that thought enters my head, my survival instinct flares to life. I have to live. Iwantto live.
“I’m not a spy,” I repeat, backing up another few steps. I nudge a table, making it wobble, but I don’t pull my gaze from Rage and the other man, who are moving with me in slow, measured steps.
“This ain’t gonna help,” Rage says.
“I know what you do to women,” I snap out, fear making me bold. “I’ll die before I let you violate my body.”
Rage’s eyes narrow, but not in anger. I swear it’s confusion I see. I don’t have a chance to understand it. Tattooed arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me tight against what feels like a slab of concrete. My pulse skyrockets, pounding so hard, I feel starved of breath.
I thrash against the ironclad grip, trying to free myself, but the man holding me is so strong, I can’t move him at all. It doesn’t help that I’m so weak I can’t defend myself, meaning I’m easily overpowered.
“Don’t fuckin’ hurt her!” Rage yells.
I don’t know why he cares, but some of those knots in my chest loosen knowing I’ve not completely lost the only support I have.
“Ain’t gonna hurt her,” a gruff voice says from behind me. “Just didn’t want her hurtingyou. Not sure if you noticed, kid, but this cat’s got claws.”
I glance up and see a man I don’t recognise. It’s not the scary-looking guy from before. This one has short hair and a beard. His eyes are dark and stormy, the promise of violence looming in those orbs. I try not to show my terror as it clutches my heart.
The President moves in front of me now that I’m restrained. I don’t buck against the hold on me. I’m too exhausted, too frightened, and too done to fight. I peer up at him, trying to be strong, but in the last moment, my resolve fails.
“Don’t hurt my baby,” I plead.
“No one is touching the kid,” Rage snaps, his gaze darting between the President and the man holding me. “Right?”
The President’s furrowed brow is the first real emotion I’ve seen from this man. “Right,” he agrees. “I don’t know what you’ve been told, but we ain’t the ones killing innocents. You and your baby will be safe, as long as you do as you’re told.”
I don’t miss the threat within those words, but I lift my chin, steeling my spine.
“And if I don’t?”
